


Jello Shots Shouldn't be Made of Stars

by Mattiewilda



Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25903267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mattiewilda/pseuds/Mattiewilda
Summary: Amy and Alan try to navigate the ever-changing world of parenting when fifteen year old Eric comes home drunk.
Relationships: Alan Matthews/Amy Matthews
Kudos: 22





	Jello Shots Shouldn't be Made of Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Don't I have enough on my plate without writing another (even short) story, you ask? Yes, yes, I do. But apparently that doesn't stop me, lol. This was inspired by conversations with my neighbors. My area had some pretty nasty storms on Monday and we've been without power more often than not since then. So my neighbors and I have spent a lot of time (social distance appropriate) hanging out in our yards and letting our dogs play together. There has been the occasional drinking and the topic of the first times we all got drunk came up. And somehow that led to this story. So...yeah. My brain works in mysterious ways.

Amy jumped up and greeted her husband when he entered the house. "How is he? _Where_ is he?"

"Remind me to set the alarm early tomorrow to hose off George's rose bushes before he has a chance to see them."

"Oh, no." She set about making tea, though she wasn't sure why. It was unlikely she'd be able to make Eric drink it before he fell asleep. Still, it was something to do. "I'm glad he remembered our conversation about drinking, drugs, and parties, and that he should never be afraid to call us if felt that he was in trouble or needed to leave, but that talk was supposed to prevent us having to pick up a drunk fifteen year old."

"Eric's drunk?"

The parents whipped around and spotted Cory and Shawn on the steps. "What are you two doing awake?"

"It's ten-thirty on a Friday night. You said we could stay up and watch movies." Cory reminded them. "So how long is he grounded for? Are we making him live in the treehouse and giving me the whole room? I think that's only fair."

"Can I have his bed," Shawn asked. "He'll never learn if you reward bad behavior."

"Upstairs…now!"

"Eric's the one in trouble. Why am I being punished?"

"Just get upstairs. I don't want to see either one of you for the rest of the night unless it's an emergency. And I mean a real emergency. Not a, 'my water glass is empty I need to refill it,' one or a trip for more snacks. If you come down with a fake emergency you'll be spending tomorrow cleaning the garage."

"Even me?"

"Even you, Shawn. Now go to bed."

"Come on." Cory sighed and tugged on his friend's sleeve. "Let's go."

"We're just going to sit at the top of the stairs and listen, right?"

"Shut up!"

"Mommy, my tongue is like five different colors," Eric proclaimed, bursting through the back door. "Wanna see?!"

She winced and turned her head away when he got in her face. "Very nice, honey, but it was cuter when you were 8 and eating Gobstoppers."

"Ooh, Gobstoppers…remember when I ate a whole bag at once?"

"You threw up in Mr. Feeny's rosebushes then, too."

"Yeah." His face fell and he stared at the table, his momentary reprieve fading away. "My tummy hurts."

"Have this first."

He didn't open his eyes, but winced when the cup and plate were set beside him on the table. "No, mommy, no food. I'll explode."

"It's just tea, toast, and Advil. It will help make tomorrow morning a little easier for you."

Alan opened the pill bottle and placed a couple in his son's hand. "Take them."

He realized he wasn't in a position to argue. He tossed back the medication, chased them down with the tea, and almost immediately regretted it. He put his hand over his mouth and ran for the back door.

"Eric, don't-" Amy looked away as he lost whatever was left in his stomach into Mr. Feeny's roses. "We have bathrooms for that."

/

/

"Earth to Eric! Come in, Eric."

He turned away from the obnoxious noise and tried to yell, but his mouth felt like sandpaper. All he could muster was a muffled, "Go away."

"Mom and dad sent me up here in search of intelligent life. That's a stretch for you even on a good day."

"Cory, I swear to God-," He turned away from his brother and groaned as every part of his body protested the movement. "Get out."

"Can't. Mom and dad want you downstairs. They said you've slept enough. It's two in the afternoon."

"Don't care. Eric sleeping." He was stunned when, seconds later, water cascaded onto him. "What the hell, man! That's cold." He looked around and only now realized he wasn't in his bed, wasn't even in his room. "Why am I in the tub?"

"You're asking the wrong person. You got up in the middle of the night and never came back."

"Lose the bullhorn, please." He tucked his legs close and rested his forehead against his knee. "Actually, beat me over the head with it. Kill me. Death has got to be better that how I feel right now."

Cory placed the bullhorn on the counter before he sat on the edge of the tub. "Did you seriously get drunk last night? That's what mom and dad said."

"I didn't drink anything but soda, so I think this is food poisoning. The jello must've been bad."

"How does jello go bad?"

Eric rubbed his temples. "Shut up."

"Mom and dad still want you downstairs."

"Later, okay?"

"Dad threatened to bust out his old amp and guitar from his supposed band days if you don't come out soon."

"Why are they torturing me," he whined. "Haven't I suffered enough?"

/

/

"Oh, there he is, Alan, our baby boy!"

Eric was almost at the bottom of the stairs when a bright flash blinded him. "What the…?" He covered his eyes. "Why?"

Amy set the Polaroid on the table. "I needed something to mark the occasion in your baby book. Now, most publishers don't leave space for Baby's First Hangover but I think I can squeeze it in."

He staggered over to the table and took a seat across from his father. He'd like to say he was avoiding eye contact, but truthfully he couldn't make it. The muscle strength required was not there so he kept his head down and stared at either the table or floor. "Can you just ground me so I can go back to bed?"

"You mean the tub?"

"Whatever."

"How do you think you should be punished?"

Eric hated when his parents did this. "I want to say I shouldn't be, but I don't think it's going to work."

"What do you mean you shouldn't be punished?"

"Alan-"

"No, you were falling down drunk. You could hardly stand up last night. There's no excuse for that." Alan resisted the urge to yell. He's been drunk and hung over. Yelling would have little effect at the moment. He'd save the yelling for when it would have an impact. "What happened? We had the alcohol talk. You're only fifteen."

"I didn't drink!"

"Eric, don't lie to me or I swear-"

"No, really, dad. All I had was soda. Hook me up to a lie detector thingy. I'll pass!"

"Did someone spike your drink and put something in it?" Amy didn't think she'd have to worry about this scenario until Morgan was old enough to go to parties.

"All I know is one minute I'm dancing with Livvie Caldwell and then we got something to eat and I don't know if it's possible for Jello to go bad, but I started to feel really weird after the Jello."

"Weird how?"

"Half of me felt like I could take over the world and the other half was really dizzy, tired, and had to throw up."

"This jello…were they shots?"

"Wha-no, dad, these weren't shots. I know what a shot looks like. They down them in movies all the time. These were shapes like Nana Boo Boo makes for holidays- stars and Christmas trees and circles and things. Then there were these Oreo ones where they switched out the cream with this weird Jello stuff. It was good, but who changes an Oreo? It's the most awesome food in the world!"

"Welcome to the wonderful and varied world of Jello shots, pal. Those sneaky bastards will screw you up if you're not careful." While he was relieved Eric hadn't intentionally gotten drunk, what he did was still dangerous. Still, he wouldn't yell. He promised Amy.

"So instead of the safe sex talk we should've had the safe jello talk? That's tricky. There are girls that wrestle in jello. What a bunch of mixed messages." The Polaroid his mom took had finally developed and Eric didn't like what he saw. He's seen better looking roadkill. Girls were definitely not going to want to date the guy in that picture. "Jello shots should not be made of stars."

"Go back to bed," Amy told him. "We'll go easy on you this weekend while we hash out the consequences. I wouldn't be making any plans for after school for a while though."

"Okay."

"No parties either. And we've already worked something out with Mr. Feeny for you to help him with yardwork in exchange for what you did to his roses."

He covered his eyes. He'd hoped that part had been a dream. "You guys understand it was an accident though, right? I didn't mean to get drunk. And I called to come home when I realized something wasn't right."

"I know and I'm glad you did, but ignorance isn't an excuse," Alan said. "You put yourself in a stupid, reckless situation. We'd be failing as parents if we didn't make sure you learned from it."

"I guess." Despite the fact that his head felt like a bowling ball, he managed to lift it enough to look his parents in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"We know. Now go upstairs. I'll bring you some soup."

"Thanks, mom." Eric used the table as leverage and pushed himself to his feet. When he got to the stairs he turned around. "Can I tell my friends it was food poisoning?

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to be the loser dork who called his mommy and daddy to come home because I couldn't handle a little alcohol. I'll never live it down."

"Eric, you did the right thing, the responsible thing. And look at yourself." Amy held up the photograph she took just minutes ago. "Is this the image you really want to protect? Tell your friends whatever you want, but if they'd rather be friends with the guy in the picture instead of who you really are then are they really even your friends?"

"I don't know," he mumbled.

"Well the good news is you'll have plenty of time to hang around the house and think about it. Now get upstairs."

"Okay."

Once she was sure their son was in his room Amy came up behind her husband and wrapped her arms around him. "Remember when the worst thing we had to worry about him ingesting was Play-Doh?"

Alan sighed. "Yeah."

"I miss that."

"Me, too."


End file.
